


Loose Ends

by QueenRadish



Series: On the Outside, Looking In [2]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Anyways once again team give asmo a personality, Breakups, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I really tried to work with how he defines his sin bc i dont think its really expanded on enough, and what better way to do that than to put your OC's in your pain TOO, this was honestly a HUGE vent piece bc I needed to get my feelings out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenRadish/pseuds/QueenRadish
Summary: Mici hasn't been acting like herself - and Asmodeus curses himself for how much that gets to him.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: On the Outside, Looking In [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938181
Kudos: 48





	Loose Ends

The first thing he noticed was the silence.

Mici wasn’t talkative – not really. But Asmodeus knew that when she wanted to say something, she _said_ it, as curtly and directly as possible. It was like having a human clone of Satan at all times – albeit a much prettier one. However, this past week, she’d been eerily quiet, muttering barely a word to even Mammon, and during breakfast was practically nonexistent. Whatever was going on, he reasoned, wasn’t his business.

Naturally, he just had to _make_ it his business.

Another dinner had passed – another session of Levi and Beel’s arguing making for most of the noise. Mammon made a courageous effort to coax conversation from Mici, but she only nodded to him, slicing delicately into her steak with a glassy stare. Asmodeus had nearly forgotten about his own meal, too focused on the …well, _nothing_ behind her eyes. How long had it been, already? A week? Two weeks? Pinpointing the exact time she’d started checking out wasn’t the point. The point was that she _kept doing it_.

When dinner was finished (and, thankfully, he wasn’t on cleaning duty), Mici excused herself to her room. Mammon, in Mammon fashion, tried to follow. But all he got for his efforts was a _look_ (and that’s really all Asmo could describe it as, for the emotion it snuck in his chest didn’t have words to grace it), and he was rooted, a greedy tree in the marble. Would have been funny without the pain in his chest.

* * *

They might not have been friends. But, their shaky (think amateur stilts shaky) alliance had to be good for _something_ , even if that something was impatiently knocking on the door without an answer. If there was one thing he’d never stoop to, it was desperation, but damn if he wasn’t close.

“Mici, darling,” he purred, “I hope you know that I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.”

No answer.

“Mici,” he tried again, softer, “Do you need to talk? I can get Mammon.”

Nothing.

“…Micaella?” he said, barely himself. But still, silence. Her light was on – she wasn’t asleep. Asmodeus felt his glossed lips tighten.

True to his word, he turned the knob and strolled in, hands in a pre-prepared flourish. But they stopped mid way, because whatever sullen human he’d been _expecting_ to see…wasn’t there. In fact, the bed was perfectly, _mockingly_ neat, as was everything else. Orderly, aligned, perfect – just in Mici’s way. Everything except for the window.

The window was open.

As soon as Asmodeus realized they were two stories up, he rushed over, peering out the opening and expecting splattered human below. But there was nothing. The only telltale signs of Mici were the small scuff marks along the rocks, somehow just deep enough to be recognized. He breathed a sigh, only realizing afterwards it was in relief. Whatever this human was doing to him – it was _not_ good for his skin.

“Little brat,” he muttered, not entirely with venom. Asmo’s options were weighed before him: go after Little Miss Moodswing and drag her pretty ass _right_ back to bed, or pretend that this wasn’t his problem. And he knew just how that last option usually turned out.

Grumbling, he hitched his leg over the windowsill.

The private garden of the House of Lamentation wasn’t as grand as the rest of the place – it was nearly quaint. Roses bloomed in controlled, charming little bursts around the corners, and a secluded iron table perched beneath a lumbering willow. It was almost sickeningly picturesque – modest as a maiden and flowering all the same.

It was also where, after nearly an hour of searching, Asmodeus found Mici at last – just not exactly how he expected her.

Her head was buried in her arms, her legs curled tightly to her chest as she rested against the willow tree. Hidden behind the bushes, Asmodeus could barely make out the shaking of her shoulders, but it was there, alright, and if he strained he heard hitches of breath weak enough to make him wince. What a despicable voyeur he felt like, prying like this. His eyes, locked on every tremble of her body, narrowed.

Before his predatory curiosity could pervert him any further, he stood up and cleared his throat.

Mici jumped to attention, pressing back against the tree. Her wide, dark eyes were rimmed and puffy. Her short hair plastered to her mouth. When she saw him, there was a flash of something – regret? Shame? – and the mask was on in record time, sealing whatever made her human beneath something immortal and unmoving. But, she didn’t shrink back as he advanced, one step after another, until he was kneeling in front of her.

She regarded him. He tried to muster a smirk, tried to shine something mirthful in his eyes, but the best he managed was a small smile. Mici looked even more confused by this. “…Asmodeus,” she greeted. “Were you looking for me?”

“Bingo,” he cooed, without his usual spark. Something about catching her like this, about catching _Mici_ like this, was yanking the cheer from his voice faster by the minute. And he would very much have liked it back. “Now, I enjoy a chase as much as the next demon, petal, but something tells me you wouldn’t agree.” He sighed, and sat down proper.

Mici rose a brow. Though her façade was still on, he saw the minute sniff of her nose, the way her eyes looked everywhere but him. It was frustratingly reminiscent of that first, horrid month, where she’d mistrusted his very _existence_. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Mici,” he said, and she jerked with the weight of her name in his voice, “Darling, you’ve been acting strange for a few weeks. Now, if you just wanted some _alone_ time, there are _much_ better ways to ask,” his wink, as usual, only earned him a glare, but at least there wasn’t heat behind it. “You don’t have to talk to _me_ about it, but if you’d like me to get Mammon-“

“No!” she said, too sudden, too much. Mici had grabbed his shoulder without realizing. Even Asmo was shocked, blinking owlishly, before he laughed – a light, bell-like sound beneath his lips. Mici quickly jerked her hand back and cradled it like it burned. “Not…Not him,” she said. “Not right now.”

Her sudden sheepishness made Asmodeus frown. “Wait, he didn’t do anything-“

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not.” Mici rolled her eyes. “He’s just…he wouldn’t react well. It’s a lot.”

Asmodeus was silent. She still wasn’t looking at him. If she’d just _look_ at him, he’d feel a bit better about this. And, really, wasn’t that so _demonic_ of him, fretting over his own feelings rather than the girl in front of him. Never one to deny himself, however, his fingers lightly touched her chin, turning her head to face him. But still, Mici’s eyes drifted sideways.

“We’re not playing this game again, petal,” he warned – but like her glare, without any heat. Asmodeus pursed his lips. “Honestly, you’re such an unobservant little human. Here you are, sitting in front of the most _beautiful_ shoulder to cry on in the _entire_ Devildom, and yet you molest that poor tree with your back.” He tutted his tongue. “Do you _know_ how many demons would take advantage of his opportunity? How lucky you are to have someone so gorgeous hike to comfort you?”

Mici didn’t look as impressed as he wanted, but the promising curve of her smile was enough. She shook her head, sighing through her nose. “Alright, I get it. But you…” her lips fell again. “Can you just…look away?”

Well, it was a weird request, but he’d comply if it got this over with. Asmodeus shrugged, idly turning his head to the iron table in the center. When he did, he heard her sigh – notably of relief.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he prodded. Mici’s breath hitched.

“Lucifer and Diavolo…” she started, “They, uh, let me have some communication with the human world. Just for a while – because my grades had been good. So, I did the usual: family, friends….” Asmodeus cheated, he knew he did, but he had to sneak a glance at her expression, only to regret it when it morphed into something painful, “My, um. My boyfriend.”

“Hold- hold on,” one hand was up like he was asking a question in class, “Precious, you might have neglected that part.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Mici rolled her eyes, “You’re supposed to be looking away. Shoo.”

“Gosh,” Asmo snickered, obeying anyways. “Mammon might just break if you tell him that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mici grumbled. “I was going to. Until, well…” Another sigh, some rustling, and another sneak peek told Asmodeus she’d curled tighter into herself. “I called him. After everybody else. I was just so…excited. We’d always been good at long distance, so I wasn’t worried – I just wanted to let him know how I was doing. I thought he’d be happy. I thought he’d understand.”

“…I’m seeing where this is going,” Asmo muttered. Mici just nodded.

“I could’ve taken a break-up,” she said. “But that wasn’t it. He told me he’d found someone else – not only that, but they’d been- they’d been _living_ together for a _month_ now. A month! I mean, I understand we couldn’t talk all the time, I know that people grow apart, but he didn’t- he didn’t even _wait_ to ask, to talk to me, there was nothing in his memory of me he wanted to keep. I was just a loose end he tied up.”

Her voice had started to warble again, heart-wrenching little wavers that made his jaw clench. Asmodeus’s hands twisted into the grass. He gave it all of three seconds before he was turning right back around and catching her cheeks, re-stained with tears, between his palms. He’d never seen someone look so charmingly upset. To quote Levi: it wasn’t _fair_.

“First,” he said, so much gentler than he’d admit, “You should have _talked_ to us. Yes, Mammon might have murdered him. But, darling, this isn’t something you keep buried in your pretty little heart.” He loosened his grip on her, just slightly, until, with shock, he noticed her unconscious leaning into his palm. If that didn’t just make his chest burst… “Second, and take this from someone who’s caused a frankly _illegal_ amount of heartbreak in his past: you are so much more than a loose end.”

Mici sniffed lightly. Had she ever looked this vulnerable? This open? He racked his brain and came up with squat. What was it that was so tempting about her shattered mask, about how she looked at him with those big, dark, watery eyes? His sin was starting to ebb, magnetized in his desire for this side. What an ugly, ugly part of him, he knew – here she was, pouring her soul out, but he could only relish in how much _more_ he wanted to see. This was not the side of Lust he would show to her. He would be better.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Mici said, but her voice was low. “You’re never unwanted.”

Gently, he pushed away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Hm – I do believe you “unwanted” me from the very beginning, didn’t you?” When she smiled, he did too, and giggled. “As _ridiculous_ as it was. I mean, really, this is only _proving_ to me you’ve got absolutely no taste. You’d choose a two-timing little weasel of a human over _this_?” his grand, characteristic motion to himself earned another snort from the girl across from him. His chest felt light. This was too much.

“Well, I won’t be choosing him again,” Mici wiped a tear from her eye. “I…thank you, Asmodeus.”

He was about to explain just how she _could_ “thank” him when a pair of thin human arms had launched themselves around his waist. He blinked, once, twice, and realized it was _Mici_ , her chin buried into the crook of his neck. He hated himself for the few first seconds of hesitation, but eventually he did hug back, grinning as he looped his arms around her in turn. Her breath was warm on his collarbone. He felt that familiar ebb, rising with a wicked grin – but for the sake of the moment, it was pushed down.

“You’re welcome, petal,” he whispered. “Now then, I’ve got a face mask with your name on it – and you _don’t_ get to refuse.”

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Lucifer said, but the glint in his eyes told Asmodeus he very much _did_ – he just didn’t _like_ it. “One specific human – that’s the only information you’re requesting?”

“Yep!” Asmo cheered. He knew the innocence he radiated only set Lucifer on higher alert, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t have a clear-cut reason to refuse.

“Why?” Lucifer turned, leaning back in his office chair. “It’s not like you to take an interest in something like this, Asmodeus.”

He let a small, playful pout grace his lips, shrugging as he idly paced the study. “Aww, but don’t you think I can change? Just one little human! I promise, it’s _just_ to find something out.” With a purposefully lascivious grin, he leaned forward. “Now, if you want to know _what_ I’m finding out-“

“No, I absolutely don’t.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with the fact that this young man…” he rose one long, dark brow, eyeing Asmo’s curling smirk, “Is Mici’s ex?”

“Oh, is he now?” his faux naivete was honeyed, and he knew it, “Who’d have thought?”

“…Who, indeed.” There was something unreadable in his brother’s tone, too, but he didn’t dwell. Lucifer fished through some notes and tossed one of them Asmo’s way – he was trotting out the door the minute he caught it.

The second Lucifer’s door closed, Asmodeus had his phone to his ear, panning the address in his fingers. “ _Hello_ there, Solomon!” he chirped, “Ah, just a question – how good are you with curses?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was NOT the next part I had originally planned lol, but the inspiration hit me and I really needed to get my feelings for these two out on paper (Screen?). But anyways, thanks for reading, please leave me your thoughts!


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